


These Spaces You Fill

by haikukitten



Series: Anger Turned Sideways [1]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Verse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:42:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haikukitten/pseuds/haikukitten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven months after the birth of Hawkeye's son, B.J. reappears in his life. Things go downhill (or uphill?) from there. Companion to "Danger is Not Knowing."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: although this work is tagged for Rape/Non-con, this does not take place in this story, but rather is referenced from the first story, "Danger is Not Knowing." Other warnings may be added as the story progresses, so please keep an eye on the tags. If you have not read "Danger is Not Knowing," you will probably be confused.

Chapter One

_hills yellow-pelted, dried earth_

_bubbles, or thrust up_

_steeply as knees_

_the sky a flat blue desert,_

_these spaces that you fill_

_with their own emptiness._

_\- Margaret Atwood, A soul, geologically_

The house that Hawkeye grew up in is one story, and it sits on a couple of acres. Trees shield it from neighbors but it’s not far from town. The porch is made of cool cement, and the yard is shady. Even in spring, it can get quite cold. But it is summertime now and this is the time when Hawkeye loves Maine the most.

It is hard to believe that it has been a year since he returned from the war. Now he is living in his childhood home with his father, assisting at the hospital occasionally, but most of his time is taken up with his son.

Henry Hunnicutt Pierce is seven months old and not quite crawling. He looks just like Hawkeye with a round face, a prominent nose and blue eyes. He has his father’s smile.

Henry is the most precious thing that Hawkeye has ever had any claim on. He spoils his child with love and kindness, careful never to let himself grow distant and retreat into himself, as he is want to do. Hawkeye has to be there for Henry at all times, doing the jobs of two parents instead of one.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hawkeye still thinks he will tell B.J. about Henry someday. But it’s been a year, the war is over and Henry is born, and Hawkeye still has yet to make that call. He hasn’t talked to B.J. at all since they parted ways. It feels strange. Hawkeye thought B.J. would try to stay in touch. He can’t bring himself to be the first one to call, so he never does and Henry is still a secret. But Hawkeye is good at keeping secrets.

Over the last year, his whole life has changed. In many ways, it has grown larger, in order to fit a new person into it, one who relies on him for everything. But for the same reasons, it is also smaller. Hawkeye doesn’t go out drinking anymore. He doesn’t flirt with pretty girls at bars. He doesn’t play poker.

He just stays home and takes care of the baby, for the most part. And no one ever asks him if that’s enough, not even his dad, because it is supposed to be enough. Hawkeye is not supposed to want more than this. But he still does and it eats at him.

Through letters and the occasional phone call, Hawkeye has stayed in touch with Margaret and Radar, though he hasn’t talked to anyone else. It feels like it would be harder to resist contacting B.J. if he talked to more of their mutual friends. Margaret talks to all of their friends, surprisingly, but it’s not that big of a group. It’s just him, Margaret, Klinger, Radar, Charles and Potter. And B.J.

It’s about noon when he hears the engine of a motorcycle and the crunch of gravel up the driveway. Hawkeye is home alone, as he usually is during the day, except for Henry, who is playing on a blanket in the living room floor while Hawkeye reads, a rare moment of peace. Life with Henry is more hectic than he imagined it would be. He never has time to himself anymore.

With a glance at Henry to make certain the child is alright for the moment, Hawkeye goes to the door to see who it is.

He stops on the porch and stares in disbelief at the bright yellow motorcycle that stops, and the figure astride it, wearing a straw hat and still sporting one of the most ridiculous mustaches in the world. Hawkeye hates that mustache.

Hot liquid burns his eyes but he blinks it away. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing B.J. here in front of him after so long.

B.J. smiles at him as he dismounts. That smile feels like a punch in the gut. Christ, he’d forgotten how lovely B.J. is, tall and sunny and smart. Hawkeye has dreamed about that yellow motorcycle coming up this driveway, to him.

For this to be real, there has to be some kind of catch.

“Hawkeye, as I live and breathe!” B.J. looks him up and down appreciatively, taking in the khaki trousers and white undershirt that he’s wearing. Hawkeye’s feet are bare on the cement porch. It’s hot today and there’s no one around to dress up for. And Hawkeye lounged around in worse than this in the army.

“Damn, it’s been too long,” B.J. continues and he strides over and wraps his arms around Hawkeye in a tight hug, as though no time at all has transpired since the last time they heard each other’s voices.

Shock gradually fades and Hawkeye manages to hug his friend back. B.J. steps back after a moment, still smiling and his eyes shining.

“It’s so good to see you!” he says, ecstatic.

Hawkeye can’t deny that it is good to see the alpha. “B.J., you crazy bastard, what are you doing in Crabapple Cove?” he asks in bewilderment.

“Just in the area and thought I’d drop by,” B.J. lies with a grin. And then he says, “Actually, I’m on vacation and Crabapple Cove seemed like as good a place as any. I rented a truck and drove out here, but now that I’m here, I’m just getting around on the bike.”

Something doesn’t add up. “From San Francisco? Without your wife and kid?”

“They wouldn’t fit in the truck,” B.J. jokes but his smile drops a little. “I just wanted to come see you, Hawk. I really am on vacation.”

There’s more to it than that, Hawkeye thinks, but he decides not to press the issue. However improbable it is, B.J. is here in his hometown, on his front porch. And the baby is just inside on the living room floor. Oh hell, he thinks.

“Well, it’s great to see you,” he says at length, returning B.J.’s smile. “You staying in town for a few days?”

Maybe he can make arrangements to meet up with B.J. later. His dad will be home in a few hours and he could watch Henry. Hawkeye could keep up his ruse for a little while longer.

“Yeah, I have a motel room. I’ll be around.” B.J. doesn’t elaborate any further on why, exactly, he’s in town, which Hawkeye can only assume means some kind of bad news. B.J. doesn’t like to tell him about bad news. He seems to think Hawkeye can’t handle that sort of thing.

“Well, you gonna invite me in for a drink?” B.J. asks expectantly and Hawkeye should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. “We’ve got so much to catch up on! Oh, and hey, I heard you got a dog. I never thought you were a dog person.”

“A dog?” Hawkeye echoes without the slightest clue in hell what B.J. is talking about.

“Yeah, Margaret said you got a dog,” says B.J. “I saw her a couple of months ago at a conference, actually. She said you had a dog named Henry.”

Oh, hell, Hawkeye thinks. Margaret must have slipped up and mentioned Henry in front of B.J., so this dog thing was her trying to cover it up.

Hawkeye is still trying to work out whether or not to lie and say he has a dog (would B.J. ask to meet the dog?) when a high-pitched wail sounds from inside the house.

“Uh,” Hawkeye flounders for an explanation even as he backs toward the door. He left Henry in the floor, something could be wrong. “I, uh, you better just. Come in.”

Bewildered, B.J. follows Hawkeye into the house. Hawkeye doesn’t waste time, just makes a beeline for Henry.

Who, as it turns out, is not in mortal danger after all. He’s just fallen over from his sitting position and is raising a ruckus because he can’t push himself back up. Hawkeye scoops the child up into his arms, cooing to him in an effort to soothe Henry’s tears.

Hawkeye turns back to B.J., with Henry still sniffling in his arms. There’s silence as B.J. just stares at Henry, like he can’t quite make sense of what he’s seeing. Hawkeye suddenly feels self-conscious. He isn’t prepared for the conversation that is about to ensue.

“Nice baby,” B.J. says after a moment. “Where’d he come from?”

“Oh, the stork dropped him off one day about seven months ago,” Hawkeye replies flippantly. “I hadn’t even put in an order for one, so you can imagine my surprise.”

“He’s yours?” B.J. extrapolates. “Seven months ago? He’s seven months old?”

B.J. is not stupid. It doesn’t take much for him to put the pieces together. Hawkeye’s silence probably doesn’t help but he can’t think of what he should say.

“Hawk, that would mean you were pregnant with him in Korea.” B.J. sounds pained. “Is that what you’re telling me? That you gave birth to this kid?”

“Yes, Beej, yes!” Hawkeye snaps, starting to become frustrated. “I’m an omega, we have children sometimes.”

“Sure, but _you_ don’t,” B.J. objects. The realization hits him. Hawkeye can see it in his eyes. “That would have had to be around when you and I…”

The alpha stares at Hawkeye and the baby for several minutes before holding out his hands to take Henry. Without really thinking about it, Hawkeye hands him over. A wave of panic washes over him when Henry is taken from him but he quashes it down. It’s only B.J.

“Hi, little man,” B.J. murmurs to Henry. The normally shy baby smiles at B.J. instead of crying for Hawkeye. No surprise there. B.J. has always been great with kids. The alpha brushes his finger across Henry’s face, staring at him in wonder. “I guess you’re Henry, aren’t you?”

Hawkeye clears his throat. “Henry Hunnicutt Pierce.”

B.J.’s smile falls and he looks pained. “Why didn’t you tell me, Hawk? I had a right to know about my own son.”

There were so many reasons. Hawkeye doesn’t want to tell B.J. that he was afraid the alpha would leave his wife for him. It sounds a little more arrogant than even he appreciates. But arrogance or not, he doesn’t think he was wrong back then. Things might be different now.

“You had a family to go home to, Beej,” Hawkeye says, trying to be gentle. His friend is hurt by this, which he expected. “I was going to tell you one day, when everything was settled down.”

“Sure you were.” B.J.’s voice catches a little.

He holds the baby a little closer, resting his chin on the top of Henry’s head. For a moment, Hawkeye thinks that B.J. is going to be angry with him. If their roles were reversed, Hawkeye thinks that he would have been angry. But B.J. is not like him. And his eyes are moist when he looks at Hawkeye and smiles sadly.

“I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t tell me about him. I would have been here for you.”

Hawkeye rolls his eyes and throws his hands in the air. “That’s the whole point, you would have been here, not with Peg and Erin. You know, your family? That you love? Your wife who adores you?”

B.J. snorts.

“What?” Hawkeye demands. “Did I say something funny?”

“Just, the part about Peg adoring me,” B.J. says with a chuckle. “I doubt she does anymore.”

The way he says it, Hawkeye gets the nasty feeling that he’s just gotten stuck in the middle of a domestic dispute of some kind. He just assumed that B.J. and Peg were happy together. B.J. had always spoken of her with love.

“Something happen with Peg?” he asks, concerned friend once again.

B.J. just shrugs his shoulders and looks at Henry instead of Hawkeye. “I suppose it’s still happening, in a way. Peg and I are separated. She says that I’m not the same man that I was when she married me.”

He finally looks at Hawkeye, and his eyes are sad. Is the man never angry?

“I’m sorry,” Hawkeye murmurs, ducking his head. He really is sorry for his friend. What does this mean for the alpha’s relationship with his daughter? B.J. has missed too much of Erin’s life already. It just isn’t fair.

“So am I,” B.J. replies and then he smiles again. “What’s done is done. Let’s talk about something else. Why don’t you tell me all about Henry here?”

It’s as though they were never apart. Hawkeye can’t help how good it makes him feel to see B.J. and Henry together like this, with their matching smiles. B.J. is taken with the baby from the start and fawns over Henry, playing with him and talking to him, seated on the living room couch. Hawkeye watches from the chair opposite of the room.

“He looks just like you,” B.J. marvels. He is tickling Henry’s sides through the baby’s jumper and eliciting giggles from the child.

This is not news to Hawkeye. Everyone remarks on how much Henry looks like him.

“He, uh, has your smile,” Hawkeye says in reply, feeling a little foolish about saying it out loud. But Henry and B.J. both smile at him, and he knows he isn’t wrong. Henry is his father’s child.

\--

_Hawkeye’s father met him at the airport. Since his stay at ward D, he still hadn’t sent a letter home to his dad. He never could get the words right. And he’d called ahead, let his dad know when he’d be getting home, but telling his father over the phone that he was pregnant didn’t feel right._

_Telling him in person wasn’t easy either but the noticeable swell of his middle made it too obvious to be ignored. The ride home was quiet and Daniel Pierce’s knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel._

_The silence between them wasn’t broken until they got home. Hawkeye hauled in his meager luggage and wandered mechanically up to his old room. Compared to his army bunk, his childhood bed was luxurious. Other than that, the room was dusty. It didn’t look like anyone had been in here since he moved out._

_Daniel followed him into the room, a tall, thin old man whose black hair had long since turned gray. His gaze lingered on the gray strands marking his son’s locks, far before his time._

_“I have thought of you, in my heart, as a child all this time,” Daniel said. “But I see that you’ve grown up without me, my boy.”_

_Hawkeye could not face his father. He stared out the window and he trembled. The moment of truth was on him now and he could not escape his father’s judgment._

_“You could have written to tell me, surely? Or called?”_

_The elder Pierce sounded pained._

_“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Hawkeye admitted. “I was afraid of what you would think – still am, to tell you the truth. Go ahead, Dad, let me have it. Tell me how stupid it was - how irresponsible it was to get knocked up during a war. It’s nothing I haven’t said to myself, and worse.”_

_Hawkeye looked to his father, feeling his heart in his throat._

_“Hey now, Hawkeye,” Daniel murmured, holding out his hands in surrender. “I don’t need to tell you any of that, and I’m sorry that you thought you couldn’t speak to me about this. You are my son. I only want to see you happy.”_

_“Dad.” Hawkeye couldn’t control the quaver in his voice. “I’m scared. I, I’ve been scared stupid ever since I was sent to Korea. Even at night now, I dream. I see people I care about dying in horrible ways. And now this.” He gestured to himself. “Dad, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”_

_His father crossed the room to him and pulled Hawkeye into a tight, protective embrace._

_“My boy, you have been so brave. The war is over now. You’re home, safe and sound.”_

_“That’s just it, Dad.” Hawkeye’s breath caught in his throat. “I don’t think I’ll ever be rid of the war.”_

_\--_

It is well into the evening and Hawkeye realizes that B.J. isn’t planning on leaving any time soon. Despite Hawkeye’s somewhat withdrawn attitude, the other man is jovial and entertains himself with Henry until the child falls asleep in his arms. He watches Henry sleep with a little smile on his face.

“Dad’ll be home soon,” Hawkeye says, sitting cross-legged in his chair. “You don’t want to have to drive back to your motel in the dark, do you?”

B.J. glances at him. “You don’t mind if I stay over, do you? I’d like to meet your dad.”

A nervous laugh escapes Hawkeye. “Okay, well, I guess that’s fine. I, um, Henry needs to be fed.”

He holds his arms out for his child and B.J. reluctantly hands the baby over. Henry stirs in Hawkeye’s hold and begins to wake, already whimpering for a meal. Standing up with the baby, Hawkeye looks at B.J. self-consciously before hurrying up to his room.

Settling down on his bed, he adjusts his shirt and raises Henry to his breast. He still isn’t accustomed to nursing a baby. The sensation of the child latching on makes him close his eyes and grit his teeth.

“You could have done that in the living room,” says B.J. from the doorway. “You didn’t have to hide up here.”

Hawkeye opens his eyes and stares at B.J. “I’m not hiding. It’s just not something I want an audience for.”

“Hawk, you always want an audience.” B.J. chuckles and steps into the room. He approaches the bed with a fond expression on his face and sits at Hawkeye’s bedside. “I never thought of you with kids, but it suits you.”

His fingers brush Hawkeye’s cheek before he pulls his hand back, looking sheepish.

“Yeah? I thought about you with kids,” Hawkeye admits. “Well, you had a kid, so I guess that makes sense. But it wasn’t just that. You were always good with children. Me, I never planned to have any kids. Funny how that works out, right?”

B.J. is back to grinning like an idiot. “I missed all of this with Peg.”

“Stop staring at me, you pervert,” Hawkeye says with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Madame, I resent your implications.” B.J. affected a haughty tone that somewhat resembled Charles’ accent. “I don’t refute them but I do resent them.”

Hawkeye can’t help but laugh at the ridiculous face that B.J. is making. Still, he’s uncomfortable with B.J. seeing him like this. And there’s not enough space between them. It’s too intimate. Hawkeye clears his throat and B.J.’s face falls.

“What are you doing here, Beej?” he asks.

“I told you,” says B.J.

“No, you told me half of it,” Hawkeye says, looking his friend right in the eye. “What’s the rest of it?”

Instead of speaking, B.J. leans in and kisses Hawkeye. And for a moment, Hawkeye melts into the feeling of it, and lets himself respond and deepen the kiss.

Then he breaks away and turns his gaze to the ceiling.

“Hawk?” B.J. asks. “What is it?”

He wishes B.J. couldn’t see the tears when they seep from the corners of his eyes against his will. This won’t work. B.J. can’t just show up and expect to pick up where they left off. It hurt too much the last time and Hawkeye is sick to death of hurting.

“I can’t do this,” Hawkeye says, a lump in his throat.

B.J. moves away from him then and hangs his head. “Okay, I’m going too fast. I understand.”

“No, you don’t,” Hawkeye snaps at him. “You don’t understand what it was like, loving you and knowing you were going home to your real family when the war was over. I let you go so you could be with your wife and daughter, Beej, not so you could abandon them on the other side of the country to look for me!”

“That’s not fair.” B.J. looks over at him again. “I never asked you to keep Henry from me. You made that decision on your own.”

“And if you hadn’t come here trying to dig up the past, you’d never know and you would be happy!” Hawkeye tries to keep his voice down but his emotions make that hard. Henry starts to cry at his breast and Hawkeye chokes back his anger long enough to switch the baby to the other side.

He catches B.J. watching again and shifts away from him. “Stop watching me already, it’s creepy.”

The last thing he wants is for B.J. to see the way his body has changed. He still has stretch marks, his body is misshapen from baby weight, and he feels like it must be visible on his face how tired he is these days.

And B.J. looks just like he always has, young and full of life, and still wearing that mustache, maybe just because he knows how much Hawkeye hates it. Hawkeye feels like he’s aged twenty years in the last four, but B.J. is still a golden boy, all smooth skin and smiles.

Damn it, but he’s missed his friend. His lover. The father of his child. It hasn’t been easy without B.J. and part of Hawkeye wants to just fall into another romance with the man, to pretend that they can be a family now and everything will be fine.

But nothing’s fine, not really. Hawkeye’s life is in shambles around him and there’s nothing he can do to build it up again. He will never practice medicine again. He has a child to support, but he has no job prospects, so he can’t move out of his father’s house. His autonomy, which he worked so hard for once upon a time, has been stripped from him. Now he is just a sad, pathetic excuse for an omega, not a man, not a doctor or a captain. B.J. doesn’t need to be part of it, not when he could have a better life in San Francisco.

The alpha stares down at his shoes, chastened by Hawkeye’s sharp tone, and Hawkeye feels like a real jerk.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Hawkeye murmurs. “It’s just, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, Beej, and you’re asking to come along for the ride? I can’t do that to you.”

“You can’t do that to me?” B.J. looks nonplussed. “Hawk, you’re not doing anything to me. I’m a grown man, I can make my own decisions, despite what you seem to think. And I’m telling you that I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I came home.”

He looks so sincere and Hawkeye’s heart aches in his chest. How long has he wanted to hear B.J. say those words to him?

“You gotta go, Beej,” Hawkeye says, as gently as he can. “Back to your motel anyway. Not tonight, okay? I’m not ready to talk about it tonight.”

B.J. looks like his whole world has come crashing down around him. Part of Hawkeye is glad. Maybe now B.J. will know what it feels like. But mostly he’s just sad and heartsick that he has to treat his best friend like this. He doesn’t know how else to cope right now. Denial has always been the easiest route. For one more night, Hawkeye wants to pretend this whole mess doesn’t exist.

“I love you,” says B.J. but Hawkeye doesn’t say it back.

\--

_During the day, Hawkeye haunted his childhood home. He read his father’s extensive collection of classic novels and watched television and listened to music on the radio. He didn’t watch or listen to the news, if he could avoid it. He didn’t want to know anything else about the war._

_At night, he dreamed. In his dreams, a thousand horrible things happened to him, to the people he loved, to random Korean civilians and drafted soldiers. Most nights, he woke up screaming more than once. His father checked in on him at first, roused by his son’s pained cries, but after a while it became routine._

_Hawkeye’s body changed, shifted around to accommodate the child within him. His narrow hips spread. His chest softened, his nipples darkening. His skin stretched and pulled until it was marred with lines. What vanity he had left was soon eradicated. Hawkeye could hardly bare to look at himself in the mirror._

_Perhaps it was all hormones, but he cried at the drop of a hat. It used to be painful, an event that signaled a loss of masculinity, but Hawkeye supposed he was passed that now. So when he wanted to cry, he just allowed himself to do so and tried not to analyze it too much._

_“You should get out more,” his father told him at dinner one evening. “You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding in here. I could use a nurse at the clinic.”_

_Hawkeye stopped eating and stared down at his plate, trying not to lose his temper. A nurse? How could his father ask him to be a nurse? He was a surgeon, and a damn good one. No one was going to hire him because he was an omega, but that didn’t make it right. There was simply no way Hawkeye was going to give in and settle for being anything less than a surgeon. If he couldn’t do that, he just wouldn’t practice medicine. That was all there was to it._

_His father ate in silence for a few long moments, perhaps recognizing that he’d said the wrong thing. He had to know how hard it all was for Hawkeye._

_“You could garden,” Daniel Pierce suggested eventually._

_Hawkeye slammed his fist down on the table._

_“Garden? Garden?!” Hawkeye fixed his father with a fierce glare. “Right. Because that’s what I’m good for. I can plant flowers and pretty up the house like a good little omega. Why should I be unhappy with that? Taking care of the home, that’s what I’m for, isn’t it?”_

_The older man looked stricken. “Hawkeye, that’s not what I meant. You know I don’t believe any of that. I raised you to be whatever you wanted to be.”_

_“And I still ended up barefoot and pregnant,” Hawkeye snorted._

_“Don’t say things like that.” His father reached over and placed a hand over Hawkeye’s clenched fist. “You worked hard. You saved countless lives and I couldn’t be prouder of you. The rest of the world, they don’t know how amazing you are. And that’s their loss, son. I wish I could fix it all for you. It isn’t fair. But we have to work with what we’ve got now. You’ve got the baby to think about.”_

_Properly chastened, Hawkeye let his fist unclench. “I can’t. I’m not ready. Please, Dad, just… I’ll take care of the house so you don’t have to. But I’m not ready to face what people will think, what they’ll say about me. After everything that’s happened, I don’t need a reputation in Crabapple Cove.”_

_“Okay.” Daniel patted his hand once and then drew back. “You tell me when you’re ready and I’ll wait. But don’t get stuck like this, Hawkeye. You’re too good for that. You have so much to offer the world.”_

_Hawkeye cracked a smile. “You know, I think I used all that up in Korea.”_

_That was what he felt like. A used up husk of a man, just a hollow shell that the life had been drained out of. He was nothing but a vessel for the child inside of him now._

_His darkest thoughts, he kept to himself. His Dad didn’t need to know about the worst of it. Maybe one day Hawkeye would heal. Or maybe, after a while, Hawkeye would just fade away. There wasn’t that much of him left anymore._

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which B.J. makes a proposition.

Oh, you’ve got, you’ve got it all.

You thought the war was over.

Now that they’ve overthrown you

And sang the reverie of you and me. 

-Amelia Curran, _The Reverie_

_\--_

_Margaret was visiting when the first labor pains struck. Hawkeye had been experiencing false starts for about a week by then, so at first he wasn’t sure the baby was really coming. In fact, he waited several hours before he even said anything to Margaret, and by the time he was certain it was the real deal, things were happening fast._

_“Pierce! You idiot, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Margaret was furious as she ushered him into the car. She had insisted on coming to stay with him for the last couple of weeks of his term, though Hawkeye had told her that he was fine on his own. In truth, he was grateful for her presence. Now that the moment was upon him, he was terrified._

_“I thought they were Braxton Hicks contractions!” Hawkeye fired back. He was trying to keep his cool but by now, the contractions were painful. He’d broken out in a sweat._

_His friend ran a hand through his hair in a comforting gesture before she hurried to the driver’s side, and then they were flying down the road to the hospital._

_She stayed by his side as he was settled into a room, she was there when his water broke, she was there holding his hand when the contractions made him scream in pain. She didn’t say a word about how his larger hand squeezed hers painfully, she just smoothed his hair back with her other hand and kept him supplied in ice chips._

_And that was great, it was wonderful, but B.J. wasn’t there. He wasn’t there because he had no idea that this was happening to Hawkeye. He was home with his wife and his daughter and he was happy and Hawkeye was pissed about it, even though it was all his fault._

_“I want Beej,” he whimpered to Margaret, who nodded and cooed to him to comfort him. “I can’t do this, it hurts. I can’t.”_

_The doctor’s gloved hands on his thighs made his skin crawl._

_“Don’t worry, Mr. Pierce, you can do this,” the man assured him. “Omegas like yourself have been giving birth for a very long time.”_

_Hawkeye threw his head back and laughed bitterly. “I’d rather be back in Korea!”_

_“You don’t mean that,” Margaret soothed. “It’s going to be okay.”_

_“Aren’t you listening to me?” Hawkeye demanded. “I said I can’t do it, I can’t! I’m tired, I’m in pain, I just want to be done!”_

_Something hard glinted in Margaret’s eyes and then she let him have it, like she would have done for any tearful nurse at the 4077 th. _

_“You listen to me, Pierce, that baby has to come out! You give up now, you’re killing an innocent child, is that what you want? Now, you have to push this baby out and you’re going to do it because if you give up now, you’re both going to die, and that is not an option, do you understand? It’s not an option, Pierce!”_

_For the first time in his life, Hawkeye actually felt afraid of Margaret and he understood how she’d kept her nurses in line under such difficult circumstances. He tried to think of something clever to say but words were failing him, so he gave in and did exactly what Margaret told him to do and he prayed that it would be over soon._

_It wasn’t over soon. It was hours of hard labor later when the baby was at last pulled free of his body and Hawkeye cried in relief and fell back against his pillow, his eyes closing, because surely now it was time to rest._

_The baby’s scream filled the room and then the wet, newborn thing was being placed in his arms and Hawkeye forced himself to open his eyes again._

_“It’s a little boy,” Margaret told him, beaming down at the child. “8 pounds, 9 ounces. You did a great job, Pierce. He’s beautiful.”_

_“Jesus,” Hawkeye breathed, amazed at how small the baby was and how big it was all at the same time. How had he managed to get it out of his body?_

_Was this how B.J. felt when he held Erin for the first time? B.J. should have been here. He should have gotten to hold his son. Hawkeye had meant to tell him, he really had, but the time never seemed right._

_“What’s his name?” Margaret asked, gentle and kind once again._

_Hawkeye stared at the baby for a long moment before he spoke. “Henry. Henry Hunnicutt Pierce.”_

\--

When Daniel Pierce arrives home that evening, he is not surprised to find the house dark except for the light in the living room. Hawkeye doesn’t really live in most of the house. He has a short route from his bedroom to the living room to the kitchen and back. Every so often, he breaks routine to take a shower. He bathes Henry in the kitchen sink, seems to prefer to stay in the kitchen or the living room most of the time. He rarely goes out. Naturally, Daniel worries.

Before the war, Hawkeye was different. He was innocent, smiled all of the time, flirted with men and women alike and doted on people. It didn’t matter, usually, who a patient was, Hawkeye loved and cared for all of them. As a boy, he’d been the sort of child to accumulate lots of friends and he tended to each of them in turn, always willing to take the time to make another person feel better. But back then, Daniel supposes his son had been happy.

There are many words he could use to describe the young man now – intelligent, cunning, caring – but happy is not one of them.

A few nights ago, Daniel woke to the sound of Hawkeye screaming the house down. Henry’s frightened wails had soon joined his mother’s screams and Daniel stumbled down the hall in the dark, barely awake, to his son’s bedside.

It wasn’t like the other nightmares Hawkeye sometimes had. This one, it was worse.

He found Hawkeye tangled in his blankets, still writhing in his bed and crying out, instead of waking in response to Henry’s tears. Daniel was torn between comforting his son and his grandson. Henry was in clear distress but Hawkeye was sobbing brokenly into his pillow, trapped in his horrific dream world. Hawkeye won out and Daniel hurried to pin the young man down, shouting Hawkeye’s name.

“Hawkeye! Hawkeye! Ben!”

The young man did not appear to hear him but he fought against Daniel’s hold on him, his breathing becoming labored, his jaw clenched.

“Benjamin, please! Wake up!”

Hawkeye cried and fought and then he said something that caught Daniel off guard.

“Please.”

Daniel didn’t let go but he listened, wondering if Hawkeye was going to say anything else.

“Please don’t,” Hawkeye whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me, Trap. Please.”

“Hawkeye, wake up!” Daniel gave the boy’s shoulders a firm shake and Hawkeye’s eyes snapped open as he sucked in a huge breath, tears still rolling down his face.

They were frozen for a moment, looking into each other’s faces, each of them unsure of what to say. Hawkeye gaped at Daniel, at first confused and then mortified, so Daniel broke away and reached for Henry, who was still crying.

Daniel shushed the baby, rocking him and murmuring to him until Henry’s cries faded and the child went back to sleep. He sat down at the foot of Hawkeye’s bed and gazed at his son.

“Who hurt you?” he asked, as gently as he could manage.

Hawkeye had only been able to stare back at him and shake his head. He never told Daniel but it doesn’t matter.

Daniel knows who “Trap” is, knows the name from Hawkeye’s letters home. A friend, a fellow officer and surgeon, Hawkeye’s confidant for the first nine months of the war. And then he’d left, went back home with no explanation, but Daniel thinks he knows a little more about why. His heart aches for his son. To what extent was he hurt? What did Trapper do?

Didn’t Trapper leave at about the same time Hawkeye was outed? Maybe Trapper outed him. But that doesn’t explain the nightmare. A cold feeling settles in Daniel’s gut.

He doesn’t ask his son if he was raped. People don’t ask their children about that sort of thing, do they? It’s too hard to make himself bring it up. And Hawkeye has been doing okay for the last few days, at least.

The television is on when he walks through the front door, and Hawkeye is curled up on the couch in his bathrobe. Henry is not present. Hawkeye usually has the baby down for the night before Daniel gets home from work. Daniel doesn’t get to see Henry very often when the child is awake.

“You’re still up?” he asks his son, more to express his disapproval than his surprise. Hawkeye is often up late. It’s easier to be awake than to face the dreams, Daniel thinks. Tonight, Hawkeye looks wired and exhausted at the same time.

Hawkeye gives him a tiny smile. “An old friend of mine came by today.”

“Oh?” Daniel tries to keep the concern from his voice. “Who was it?”

“Henry’s father.”

Now Hawkeye is staring into the empty tumbler resting in his right hand. But his smile is a little more genuine and there’s a tiny spark of something in his eyes.

Daniel keeps quiet, waits for Hawkeye to explain.

“I told you about B.J.,” Hawkeye says conversationally. “He’s a really great guy. We were close, you know, before the war ended. And I meant to tell him. I really did. But he’s married, has a daughter, and I just… I couldn’t make myself ruin all that for him.”

It wasn’t hard to guess at the identity of Henry’s father and Daniel already suspected it was B.J., so this is just a confirmation. But Hawkeye has never talked about this with him before. Something important must have happened.

“Did you tell him today?” Daniel asks.

“Couldn’t really explain away the baby,” Hawkeye replies. “He, uh, he’s having problems with his wife. So he came here, I dunno, maybe to pick up where we left off in Korea. Or maybe he just wanted to talk, but once you admit to a guy that you’ve had their baby, they get all these ideas in their head.”

Hawkeye is nervously shifting the glass from one hand to another now.

“I told him to leave, so he did. He’ll be back tomorrow. I shouldn’t be so angry about it, but I… I gave him up, Dad. I loved him, you see. And I thought I couldn’t have him. I thought he’d be better off without me. Now, he’s just here and what am I supposed to do? What do I do now?”

Daniel knows he should say something. There should be some way he could make this better for his son. Somehow, he can’t find the words.

“Maybe you should hear him out,” Daniel says, and he can tell he has said the wrong thing when he sees Hawkeye’s grip on his tumbler tighten. “I’m not saying you have to, son. But you say you loved him, and if he feels the same and would be willing to take care of you and Henry, what’s the harm?”

“I don’t need anyone taking care of me,” Hawkeye snaps. “I’m my own man.”

Pity cuts Daniel to his marrow. It isn’t true anymore, after all. Hawkeye isn’t his own man. He’s an omega with a bastard child, a social pariah. The odds of him meeting another mate are slim and at this point, Hawkeye needs someone who can look after him.

“You and I know that’s not true,” he murmurs and tries to ignore the look of hurt that flashes across his son’s face. “I’m not telling you what you have to do, you know I would never do that to you. I’m just asking you to spend some time with Henry’s father. It will be good for you. At the very least, he’s your best friend, isn’t he?”

He feels that he had to say it, but that doesn’t give him much comfort when he sees his son get up and leave the room.

\--

_The baby cried so often. Hawkeye never got any sleep. This wasn’t all bad. When he slept, he had nightmares. Most of the time, he didn’t remember the details of his nightmares, just woke up in a cold sweat with a vague sense of wrongness. Sometimes he remembered snatches, like the sound of bombs exploding, gunfire, the clink of medical utensils in a tense operating room, the smell of charred flesh._

_On rare occasion, he dreamt about Trapper. Those dreams were vivid. He woke up remembering in detail how it felt to be held down and raped by his best friend. Sometimes he woke up crying, hoping to god that his father couldn’t hear him down the hall._

_So, not getting enough sleep was okay. It wasn’t like he slept well in the first place, and with Henry pushing him to exhaustion, when he finally did collapse, his sleep was dreamless. Henry worked him hard, but the reward was that Hawkeye’s mind was at peace for a while._

_Aside from tending to Henry, Hawkeye’s time was poorly used. He tried, he really did, at first, to stay active and keep his head in a good place. It was easier said than done. Mostly, he wrote letters to friends. He wrote to Margaret, Charles, Radar, Potter, but he never managed to write to B.J. What was he supposed to write about anyway? He couldn’t figure out how to explain to B.J. that he’d given birth to their child, a child B.J. didn’t even know existed. He couldn’t just write to B.J. about his life and leave out Henry because Henry was his life now._

_So he didn’t write to B.J. and it nagged at him. Once or twice, he nearly picked up the phone to call him, but stopped himself before he could go through with it. And a month passed and he didn’t write or call, and a couple more months passed, until it occurred to Hawkeye that he wasn’t going to tell his friend about their child, not if he could avoid it._

_It took a surprisingly small amount of time for him to lose contact with Charles and Klinger and even Potter. The occasional letter here and there came back from them, and Hawkeye came to realize that they were all moving on with their lives and perhaps keeping in touch with old war buddies wasn’t their idea of a good time. He didn’t begrudge them this. After all, he still got calls from Margaret and letters from Radar, who Hawkeye doubted would ever stop writing to him._

_So it wasn’t that strange to not keep in touch with B.J. and after all, Hawkeye didn’t keep in touch with Trapper either. The other man had never written him the first letter and Hawkeye had taken that as a sign, and B.J. hadn’t written or called either, so why was it all Hawkeye’s responsibility?_

_One day, he figured, years in the future, he and B.J. would meet again and Hawkeye wouldn’t even have to explain who Henry belonged to, not really. And in the meanwhile, Hawkeye had Henry to keep him company, the little boy with B.J.’s smile, who, gods willing, would grow up to be an alpha or a beta and wouldn’t have to deal with the sort of shit Hawkeye dealt with._

_He knew that he needed to be more productive. But Margaret and Charles had great jobs at great hospitals, and B.J. did too, according to Margaret, and they attended medical seminars and learned and improved and they continued the work they did before. Everything they’d built with their lives was coming to fruition for them._

_On the other hand, Hawkeye couldn’t find a job. There wasn’t a place that would hire a disgraced omega as a surgeon, never mind that Hawkeye had served his country and proved his skill. Potter and Charles tried to pull strings for him a few places but it never worked out. There was always a reason why he wasn’t a good fit, but Hawkeye new that the truth was, the world just wasn’t ready to let an independent omega rise up to the same heights as an alpha. Maybe one day things would be different but they weren’t yet._

\--

It’s late in the morning when Hawkeye rises, rubbing his eyes. Henry is not fussing, which seems strange. Sometimes, though, Daniel takes a day off and watches Henry so that Hawkeye can get some extra sleep. Hawkeye stumbles out of bed and notes that Henry’s crib is empty. Yawning, he pulls on his bathrobe over his boxers and undershirt, and he plods downstairs.

On the bottom step, he pauses. He can hear voices in the kitchen. Hawkeye rarely talks to other people, especially the sort that come calling this early in the morning. Neighbors are nosy, old acquaintances are worse, and Daniel Pierce is too polite to turn people away when they turn up on his door, so Hawkeye lets his dad deal with people and usually hides in his room.

The problem is, his dad undoubtedly has Henry and the baby will be wanting fed soon. If Hawkeye leaves the baby much longer, there will be tearful complaints from Henry, and Hawkeye will have to make his presence known anyway.

Damn, he thinks to himself. It was shaping up to be a decent morning, but that’s over now. With a sigh, he heads to the kitchen, preparing a smile as he goes and a short but polite greeting, so that he can grab his child and get back upstairs as quickly as possible.

He freezes in the doorway to the kitchen. It’s not a neighbor sitting at the kitchen with his father, holding his child, sipping a cup of coffee. It’s B.J.

“Hawkeye!” B.J. sees him and smiles that blinding smile of his. “Good morning! Your dad and I were just having breakfast with Henry.”

Henry, perched on B.J.’s knee, is enjoying some sort of green mush that B.J. is directing into his mouth via a baby spoon, making helicopter noises as he does so to keep the baby laughing and happy.

Daniel looks over his shoulder at Hawkeye and he looks apologetic. “Your friend stopped by this morning to see you and I told him he could wait for you to wake up.”

“Henry woke up a little while ago but your dad and I thought you could use some extra sleep,” B.J. explains. He doesn’t seem to see anything wrong with this whole thing. He’s just his usual goofy, innocent self. “We’ve been having breakfast, haven’t we, Henry?”

The baby catches sight of Hawkeye and starts babbling and reaching out to him. Hawkeye steps into the kitchen and gathers Henry up into his arms. B.J. seems reluctant to surrender him but doesn’t voice a complaint.

“Still in town, then?” Hawkeye asks, pouring himself a cup of coffee one-handed while Henry gums his shoulder.

B.J. clears his throat in discomfort and gives a sharp nod. “Yes, well. I did say I was going to be in town for a few days, didn’t I?”

Hawkeye shrugs. “I thought you might change your mind. After last night.”

“Ah, Dr. Hunnicutt, it’s been a pleasure but I’m afraid I’m going to have to head in to work,” says Hawkeye’s father, rising from the table. “It was good to meet you, son.”

He shakes B.J.’s hand and B.J. says, “Likewise, but please call me B.J., Dr. Pierce.”

“Daniel, to you,” says Hawkeye’s dad with a grin. He swallows the last of his coffee and, with a goodbye to Hawkeye, is gone out the door, leaving Hawkeye on his own to deal with B.J.

For a while, they are silent. Hawkeye prepares himself a small breakfast of toast and eggs, also one-handed, and doesn’t say a word to his friend, who is sitting quietly at the kitchen table, hands cradling his coffee cup.

“Is this how it’s going to be?” B.J. asks when Hawkeye sits down to his breakfast. “You’re just not going to talk to me?”

“Not much to say,” says Hawkeye, avoiding B.J.’s gaze. “I’m not going to help you cheat on your wife.”

“Damn it, Hawk,” says B.J. with a sigh. “You’re turning this into something it’s not.”

Hawkeye puts down his fork and stares at his friend incredulously. “Something it’s not? Explain to me, then, how it’s not exactly what it looks like. Because it looks to me like you and Peg are having problems and instead of dealing with them, you thought you’d just move on to the next best thing. Well, you can forget it.”

“Maybe I wanted to spend some more time with Henry,” B.J. objects. “I’m not here to turn your life upside down, you know. You’re my friend. Or you were. I thought… I thought I could come to you and you would understand.”

“Sure, that’s why you kissed me, right?” Hawkeye snaps. “Because we’re friends? Some friend. You haven’t written or called or bothered to check in on me at all and you just turn up here and think everything can be like it was before? That’s not how it works.”

“You didn’t call or write to me either,” B.J. points out. “You write to everyone! You used to write home constantly in Korea. When you didn’t write to me, I just thought you didn’t want to hear from me after… Well, after. I understood that, and I still do, but you kept Henry from me, Hawk. You kept my son from me.”

Oh no, Hawkeye is not going to let this become his fault. No way. He’s been here for the last year, a single parent, surrounded by people who think he’s a whore for having a child without a mate, and he has had enough of bearing the blame.

Pointing a finger at B.J., he snarls, “You’ve got a little girl in San Francisco, in case you’ve forgotten, and she needs her dad as much as Henry, if not more. Henry doesn’t know you. When you’re gone, he’s not going to cry for you. He’s not going to feel like you’ve abandoned him. What about Erin? Doesn’t she matter to you?”

“Of course she matters.” B.J. stares back at him, hurt shining in his eyes. “Hawk, I’m not abandoning Erin. Peg and I, we just. We don’t fit together anymore.”

He turns his gaze to his cup. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I was trying to make things work with Peg and I… I was afraid that if I heard your voice, I wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

No, no, no. This isn’t happening. Hawkeye starts shaking his head, trying to make all of it go away.

“It’s true,” B.J. insists. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Things weren’t the same with Peg and it was my fault. I fell in love with someone else. With you.”

“No!” Hawkeye explodes and his tone scares Henry, whose face scrunches up in shock before he begins to wail. Shaking, Hawkeye tries to calm the child, but B.J. is watching him, waiting for him, and Hawkeye wants to scream at him, hurt him, make him leave, but Henry is squalling in his ear and he can’t concentrate. “Look, just! I can’t deal with this right now, okay?”

And B.J. is quiet, doesn’t say a word as Hawkeye soothes the baby until Henry is content and the tears in his eyes start to dry.

The fight is starting to go out of Hawkeye. He’s tired. The nightmares, the baby, the fruitless job hunt, it’s all wearing on him. Before he knows it, his own eyes are burning with liquid.

“I’m sorry,” says B.J. “I’m so sorry you felt like you had to do this all on your own, Hawk. I know you did it for me. But you don’t have to anymore. Just give me a chance, please. I want to get to know Henry, be part of his life. I want to get to know you again. Like before. We always made a good team.”

Hawkeye rubs at his eyes with his palm. The few good dreams he’s had in the past year have been about B.J. His most private fantasies always involve B.J. turning up out of the blue like this, so why is he so angry? This is what he wanted.

“Say I give this a chance,” he says, fighting to keep his voice level. “What happens when your vacation is over? I can’t move back to San Francisco with you. My life is here.”

“Hawk, don’t take this the wrong way but I’m not sure that what you’re doing right now is living.” B.J.’s tone is gentle, careful. “I think what you’re doing is just surviving. And I can’t stand to see you waste your life hiding in this house. What kind of example is that going to set for Henry? You’re a great man and a great surgeon. You should be doing great things.”

Well, that’s easier said than done, Hawkeye thinks. “No one will hire me, Beej, I’ve tried! You think I want to spend the rest of my life trapped in this house, raising Henry, never seeing the inside of an operating room again? But this is what I’ve got and there’s nothing I can do to change that now!”

B.J. leans over the table and grasps Hawkeye’s free hand. “Come back with me. I’ve got a practice of my own. I’ll hire you. We’ll say you’re a nurse but you can work with me and no one has to know the truth, at least for now. It’s not going to be like this forever, Hawk. Omega rights, it’s already a thing. One day you’ll be respected again, for who you are, and I want to be there with you. If you’ll have me.”

Move? Hawkeye balks at the thought. He can’t really move across the country with B.J., can he?

“My dad, I can’t just leave him here. He’s getting older, he needs me.”

“He’s worried about you.” B.J. squeezes Hawkeye’s hand. “Don’t you know that seeing you like this is killing him? This life isn’t what he wanted for you.”

Hawkeye fixes B.J. with a solemn stare. It’s not that he doesn’t believe his friend. Hell, he’s sure his dad said that, but Dad also seems to think his only option in life at this point is to pray that B.J. will make a decent omega out of him. Maybe he has a kid, maybe his life is in shambles, but he’s still his own master. He doesn’t want that to change.

“I’m not like Peg, do you understand that?” he says. “I mean, I’m sure she’s a great gal, but the whole married with kids thing, she probably always wanted it. If I could have spent the rest of my life hiding who I am, I would have done that. I was raised that way. You think you know me, Beej, but you only know the me that came after Trapper John. It’s not the whole truth.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence.” B.J. shakes his head. “And don’t act like you and I don’t know each other intimately.”

“Just because we slept together,” Hawkeye starts to object but B.J. interrupts him.

“No, not because we slept together, Hawk! I know you. I slept with you because I fell in love with you, after you became my best friend. No one in this world is closer to me than you. I’ve shared things with you that I never would have told to anyone else, and you know that!”

The poor alpha’s face is red. He’s breathing hard and Hawkeye can’t help but start to take pity on him. B.J. is a gentle soul, more so than any other person Hawkeye has ever met. It seems wrong to make the man fight so hard for something. But B.J. is determined to fight back when Hawkeye tries to push him away.

“Yeah,” Hawkeye murmurs at length. “You’re right. We know each other. Guess I’m just having a hard time convincing myself that you really want to throw away your family for me, of all people. I’m damaged goods, you know.”

“Don’t say that.” B.J. reaches out to him, touches his arm, and his eyes are filled with compassion. “From the day I met you, I knew you were something else – something special. I’ve been yours from the start. Can’t you see that?”

It doesn’t make any sense. Hawkeye isn’t anything special, despite what B.J. seems to think. He’s just a freak who was pretending to be something that he wasn’t, and in the end it all blew up in his face.

But how can you look B.J. Hunnicutt in the eyes and tell him he’s wrong about you? Hawkeye has always been lousy at denying B.J. anything. All B.J. has ever had to do is ask.

“I’m not going to pretend I understand what you see in me.”

Hawkeye stands up as he speaks, taking Henry with him. The child gurgles in happiness at the movement. The sound of it tugs at Hawkeye’s heart. All this time, he’s thought that Henry would have to grow up without his father. It hurt to keep the two most important people in his life apart. So maybe this is for Henry. That’s a good enough reason to try, isn’t it?

“I don’t get it, I really don’t. But if you want to try and make this work, I guess I can give it a shot.”

In an instant, B.J. leaps out of his chair and has Hawkeye in his arms. The younger man draws Hawkeye in and kisses him soundly on the mouth. Hawkeye tenses at first but makes himself give in. And the minute he lets himself feel something for B.J. again, it all comes flooding back to him.

TBC


End file.
